No Comment
by chwitchety
Summary: TBC News Reporter Callie Torres is covering a high profile Court Case. But what is up with the Junior Partner on the Prosecution Team, Arizona Robbins?
1. Chapter 1

"God!"

Calliope Torres, Exclusive TBC Current Affairs field reporter, frustratedly removed the offending windswept hair strands from her newly applied lipstick. Pushing the hair behind her ears, she raised the small compact mirror up to appraise the effect. A modern feminist take on old Hollywood glamour. She primped the bob hopefully and wiped the excess lipstick from the corners of her mouth. It was the third time she had attempted to put her makeup on today. Waking up late, she had miraculously caught a green light luck-out and arrived at the Court House on time, if somewhat disheveled with barely a chance to eyeline at a fortuitous traffic light.

"Cristina, check this for me."

Callie turned around to face her apathetic cameraman, sat slouched on a public bench, popping gum. Cristina barely seemed to register her comment and Callie raised her eyes heavenwards and exhaled.

"Hey. Slacky McBored. You owe me. Check my makeup. You ruined it before."

Ten minutes earlier, Cristina had bound up to Callie with the enthusiasm only born of an action junkie to inform her that David Cross had arrived. Body on the line, intrepid reporter Calliope Torres, did not let the fact she only had one eyelid eye-shadowed bother her, and had rushed to get the exclusive interview with…Guy Doom – the local schizophrenic character, handkerchief permanently across his face in the event of chemical warfare. Cristina's eyes had wandered sheepishly under Callie's death glare before shrugging apologetically and wandering over to the bench, camera in hand.

"I didn't ruin it. You have no organizational skills."

Callie's eyebrows rose. "I have plenty. Check my makeup."

"It's fine."

"You didn't even look."

"Would you listen if I had a comment?"

"Probably not."

"So, it's fine."

Torn between strangling and dropkicking her partner, Callie settled for collapsing down onto the bench beside her, arms outstretched over the back of the seat, and crossing one Jimmy Choo donned leg over the other in annoyance.

"You are utterly useless, you know that?"

"And yet the awards on my mantlepiece say otherwise. Why don't you harass Pretty Boy?"

Callie glanced at Cristina before looking around, eyes settling on the ruggedly handsome RDTV reporter standing twenty metres away running through test intros with his crew.

"Who, Mark? His forte is 'what dress looks good with those boobs' not 'foundation tones and when to use them'."

"Hmmm." Cristina sounded unconvinced.

Callie let it go. The morning sun was full of soft warmth, soothing her as she basked in it. Breathing the crisp, fresh air deeply through her nose, she felt her entire body relax. "So when are they coming?"

Cristina shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Any minute."

It was big news.

High profile politician and beloved golden boy, David Cross, was the first openly gay elected official to 'come out', so to speak, of The South. Bringing with him his partner of 11 years, John Hillbank, everything had been running smoothly until John contracted kidney cancer. An operation had been urgently needed when David was informed that his health insurance did not, contrary to previous reassurance, cover his partner. In this very real life and death situation, $10,000 had been noted to have mysteriously disappeared from the budget and John, Medal of Courage bedecked firefighter, had undergone the surgery.

It hadn't taken much effort to put 2 and 2 together.

The public had, from whichever perspective, been outraged. The Times and the Post had ranged from reserved to disparaging. The embezzlement was universally frowned upon, but the circumstances…well…and the buzz, on this first court day of _Cross vs. State_, was that Cross held the winning hand. Information was tight, but something was definitely going to be thrown into the mix today. And 26 news crews were waiting on the Courthouse steps to find out exactly what that was.

Callie bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I bet he's got something in writing. There's no other way."

Cristina shook her head, "Nope, apparently the contract didn't cover civil unions."

Callie looked over at her in astonishment. "How –"

"Friends in low places. Only hearsay. If you are going by the contract, he is well and truly screwed, but he's got something. He's definitely got something. Why do you think it's taken so long to come to trial? Prosecution trying to cover their asses over whatever it is."

As if on cue, Callie caught sight of the luxury car drawing up to the curb.

"Speaking of."

She nodded in the direction of the car as she pushed herself off the bench and straightened her skirt. Cristina's head whipped around as the Chief Barrister of the Prosecution began to step out of the car. Grasping the camera and hoisting it to her shoulder in a practiced fashion, she broke into a light jog, "Let's go."

Evidently all 25 of the other news crews had noticed the new arrival and within the 100 yards it took for the TBC News Team to make their way over to Mr Webber, there was already a small throng forming. A second car pulled up behind the Chief's and out of the curb door stepped the Webber&Grace Intern, Alex Karev, self-satisfied smile on his face at the furor their arrival was causing. Out of the roadside door, a glinting head of blonde – professionally pulled back into a tight twist – emerged: Arizona Robbins, Junior Partner.

"Mr Webber!"

"…comment on the State's take on…"

"INTV News, sir, can we…"

"What will – Ms Robbins – what…"

"Look this way, Mr Karev!"

"TBC News!"

Callie tried to get a word in edgeways as the throng collectively moved up the Courthouse steps following the three-person Prosecution team. Upon reaching three quarters of the way up, Webber swung majestically around to face his captive audience. A hush fell as he began to speak, only camera flashes audible.

"Today is a day about truth and justice. I plan to find the truth and deliver its justice. I have worked hard to be given the privilege of this heavy responsibility, and it is my duty to perform it as such, regardless of personal circumstance. Mr Cross has found himself unable to separate his personal circumstance with the responsibility he was elected to and he has made a rash choice. There are many difficult situations in life, but it is my job to protect and serve the people and their resources. And I intend for that today."

Callie strained to push the TBC microphone closer without falling over, as Webber paused, then with grand condescension, added, "Thank you."

Immediately the excitement started back up again.

"Webber! Mr Webber, can you…"

Desperately hoping Cristina was close at hand, Callie saw a small space to squeeze into bringing her within touching distance of the exquisitely pant-suited Junior Partner.

"Ms Robbins, TBC News, what is the exclusive information David Cross has that affects this case?"

Arizona Robbins looked rather annoyed. It was a well known media industry fact that photos of women sold papers and bought ratings. Men like looking at women and women like judging other women. Especially rather good looking women that happened to be successful in their line of work, which was the category Arizona Robbins found herself in. She was subsequently copping the brunt of the media frenzy, all positively enthralled at the prospect of a photogenic woman to give a face to their story. Arizona turned sharply at Callie's question, lips in an understated expression of distaste.

And did a double take.

It was ever so subtle, but it was there. Callie's mind went into overdrive. Fuck. She could get away with shitty makeup with men, but women weren't so easy. Her fucking eyeliner, she knew it had been too thick. She had probably wiped it up the side of her temple. And the woman had noticed. Goddamn.

Arizona's eyes flicked up to meet her own.

"No…No comment."

And they were gone.

Callie stood on the steps watching the Courthouse doors they had disappeared through feeling a mixture of confusion and frustration. Cristina appeared at her elbow.

"What DO you have on your face?"

Callie turned her face towards Cristina and gestured accusingly up and down her face.

"I told you to check it."

Perusing, unaffected by the animosity being directed towards her, the cameraman pursed her lips. "Looks okay."

"Looks okay?" Callie raised an eyebrow and gazed back at the doors. "But you caught that right?"

Cristina sighed and began to walk up the steps to the Courthouse entrance, turning backwards to face Callie on her ascent.

"If by 'that' you mean, did I shoot useless footage of your exclusive, thrilling 'No comment' interview where the most interesting thing is the off-camera reporter's face, then yes I did."

Callie blinked. "Where are you going?"

Cristina lifted her camera slightly and grinned conspirationally. "Taking the initiative." She turned around and walked directly into a blue polyester donned chest.

"Initiative stops here."

Hearing the delighted snigger from Callie behind her, she wiped her face blank and raised a guilt-free expression up to discover the shock of red-hair.

"I'm so sorry, Officer, I appear to be lost."

Another snort from Callie.

The Security Guard looked down cynically, meeting her eyes.

"I have the feeling you're the kind of girl that couldn't get lost in a desert, even if she tried."

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean, Officer –" she glanced at his name badge, "Owen."

Intelligent eyes sparkled.

"You know, if someone did want to take any initiative, they'd probably get in good with the security guard working this week."

Cristina cocked her head. "Well, that would be good advice to anyone with initiative, of which I am not." Cool as a cucumber, she turned back to Callie giving her a flash expression of intense victory before grabbing her arm and dragging her back down the steps. Callie glanced back at the security guard, who was watching their retreating forms and grinning with open mouthed incredulity.

"What was that?"

"That, was just our exclusive in."

"I love my job."

"Don't I though?"

Reaching the bottom of the steps, the pair meandered back to the bench to sit down and wait for the appearance of David Cross and his lawyer. Crossing her legs again, Callie relaxed her head backwards and took in the miles of blue, stretched across the sky. No clouds today. Her mind wandered.

That was the colour. Sky-blue. Her eyes were sky-blue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry peeps, should have added a disclaimer in the first chapter that – no, I don't know about law stuff except for watching The Good Wife and the first season of Boston Legal and even then I barely pay attention to legalities. I fully acknowledge that I'm wrong about a great deal of things from the law perspective, but please bare with me. Read this in the way you watch Rizzoli and Isles: Plot holes abound, but you still watch it cos the femslashy goodness cannot be denied. I try to make it as realistic as possible, but I really write for the characters and the relationship journey and so if I get legal things wrong, please overlook it y'all.**

**Thank you for all your lovely comments. I really appreciate it!**

****

Safely inside, and the minute they had made it through the security station, Alex Karev's professional mask dropped away.

"Ho-ly shit."

Keeping his tone relatively low, so Webber – in front, leading the way – wouldn't hear, he turned his head to look at his mentor, still unable to contain his incredulity.

"Is this what it's always like?"

They were striding through the lavish Courthouse on their way to the Prosecution Conference Room. Arizona Robbins bit down the grin she could feel bubbling to the surface at her intern's excitement. Remaining serious, she gave an indulgent nod in his direction.

"Come on Karev, let's keep it professional."

She heard him scoff slightly, still buzzed from the media energy that had been directed his way. It had only been a few years since she herself had felt the same way on her first major trial, and Arizona was being lenient. Either way, her mind was distracted. The media somehow knew about the Cross information. How much they knew about it was irrelevant to exactly 'How' they knew about it in the first place. It had probably been Stevens, the sneaky bastard. But it wasn't just that, no…

What.

The.

Hell.

What the hell had she been thinking? One minute she was Arizona Robbins, Top Harvard Graduate and new junior partner at Webber&Grace and the next she was Arizona Robbins, Tongue-Tie and Occasional Mute Extraordinaire. She had stumbled over the one sentence any lawyer said at least one hundred times a day. 'No comment.' Was it not enough that she occasionally almost drove off the road when she saw a pretty girl, that now it had to affect her at work as well? She had almost made it into the Courthouse when she had heard the pleasantly-voiced, loaded question. Turning around, with every intention of setting the reporter in their place with her renowned steel-like presence, suddenly all she could see was the shining, soft jet black hair, deep chocolate eyes and the slim yet luxuriously full-figured body. And the lips. Rose-tinged and lush. It was like being fifteen again for a second.

Heck, the beautiful Newswoman probably had it all on tape. One playback. She would take all of one view to spot the 'Big, Fat Mo' sign written all over her face and then Arizona's life as she knew it was over. Finite.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Arizona had had relationships through college, but was never – if you could say – 'aggressively' out. The fact she had found so annoying in her younger years – that people would always assume she was straight – had come to be an unexpected benefit for her career. As a young graduate, with a prestigious placement at the famous Webber&Grace firm, it had been made indirectly, but firmly clear to her that knowledge of her being gay, could only be to her detriment. The clients pulled by the prominent firm were often Big Money, Republican, Christian. They got on fine with the patriotic army brat making good in the world of law. They sure as hell didn't want anything to do with the non-religious, feminist lesbian lawyer who had taken the Roller Derby field by storm in her twenties. No, definitely not. So, as it was, she was never entirely comfortable, but resigned to her closeted trap. She had attended the Annual Webber&Grace Law Review for the past few years with no 'Plus One' at her side. She knew people had questions, but the very fact that her ascent through the firm's ranks was rewardingly fast, cemented her validation in her choice.

It was nobody's fucking business what she did in her private life, anyway.

And now? One minute of footage and Arizona's mind was going a million reps per second. She tried to shake off her unease.

Karev nudged her accidentally in his jubilance and jogged her thoughts back to the present.

"Dude, it is like that isn't it? Ho-ly shit, that was intense. And how did they know about the Cross – "

" – Karev," Chief Barrister Webber cut him off quickly. Alex's head snapped focus on the back of the advancing Chief, who he hadn't thought was listening. "You would do well to listen to your 'Dude' and keep it professional."

Somewhat brought back down to earth, Alex looked apologetically at Arizona, while acknowledging Webber. "Yessir." They had reached the Conference Room and the Chief opened the door and stood waiting for his team to pass through the doorway. As they walked into the classically decorated room with rich red carpet and mahogany furniture, the Chief pushed the door shut behind them, vigorously, garnering their attention.

"I don't know how they found out about the Cross tape, but they believe what we tell them to believe. They're pawns. Like I always say, 'The Media? Fuck'em.'"

Karev laughed the laugh of an underling trying to ingratiate himself with the big dogs as an equal. Arizona's small acknowledging smile grew into a smirk.

"Set it up, Karev."

He looked her way and nodded and both men set briefcases on the polished oval table, opening them up and started taking out files. Looking around the room, Arizona noticed a coffee station – a small oasis of dependent love – and her feet, of their own accord, migrated towards it. Glancing back over her shoulder she managed to catch the eye of the Chief. "Anyone for coffee?" The Chief looked back down at his filing, replying with a succinct, "No." Alex nodded casually, "Black, no sugar."

Checking to see if the pot was still warm, Arizona idly wondered what type of coffee 'TBC News' liked. Milk and sugar, she supposed. And they would drink it on Sunday morning, lying comfortably in bed and doing the crossword. Just coffee and those curves. Maybe a little jazz in the background.

Arizona poured scalding liquid onto the hand that was steadying the cup.

Ouch.

Heck, TBC News probably didn't even drink coffee and maybe, just maybe, she should actually focus on any form of present reality. She shook the now cooling coffee drops off her hand in annoyance.

"…ou okay?"

She snapped around.

"Sorry, what?"

"Are. You. Okay?" Chief Webber sounded the words slowly. Blushing slightly, Arizona nodded curtly and slipped back into shark mode. She carried the two cups of java back over and took her seat at the table, handing one of them to Alex. Chief Webber was still watching her closely.

"Alright," – finally, his eyes left her – "Let's get started. We have fifteen minutes so let's just run through it one more time." He looked expectantly at Alex over his glasses. Realising he was being called upon, Karev shuffled through his notes and selected the paper he was looking for.

"David Cross, elected official – stolen ten grand. During Opening Address, need to touch on the responsibility and duty of those elected. Mentioning the word 'corruption' as often as possible and avoid any reference to the gay aspect, because that is where the Defense is going to make their case. We are going to cut this case down to the basics that this guy has abused his power and stolen the cash." The Chief narrowed his eyes in approval, "Good. Good. And don't fall into the trap of the histrionics surrounding all that gay marriage deal."

Arizona's eye twitched.

Webber was the most set in his ways of the two major partners. His barbed homophobic comments had been frequent and intolerable, but this was not a time to fight back in a righteous rage. Poised, with her recently acquired promotion to Junior Partner, it would only be a couple of years before she could have her cake and eat it too.

Until then, she was biding her time and her involuntary eye-twitch was the only thing betraying her feelings on the subject.

Mentally shaking it off, Arizona took a sip of gloriously piping caffeine. "Sir, any additions to our plan regarding the tape?"

The Chief sighed, resigned. "No, just stick to the written contract and emphasize the fact that whatever the case, he was still in the wrong. Do not in any way imply he could have been in the right. Either way, we're just going to have to play it by ear."

A knock on the door interrupted them and was followed by a head peering through. "You have two minutes."

The Chief nodded, "Thank you." Both men stood as they collected their files and placed them back into the briefcases. Arizona stared at the remaining coffee swilling in her mug. It was an enticing milky caramel colour.

"Arizona?"

She looked up at the briefcase Alex was pushing across the table towards her. Standing up, she swigged the remainder of her drink and grasped the handle of the case.

Arizona pushed any and all thoughts of smooth, coffee caramel skin out of her mind.

The Chief turned before they walked out the door. "You are Webber&Grace associates. You are the smartest minds in the country. And we win. We are winners. So, let's get this right." He looked sternly at Karev. "You won't get a better education than this. Remember who you are." Breaking eye contact, he reached for the door handle. "Let's do this."

Alex puffed his chest out subtly.

Arizona rolled her eyes.

It was time.


	3. Chapter 3

"Torres!"

Callie glanced over towards the bar, where her name had been called, and saw Mark Sloan perched on one of the stools, beckoning with his hand that there was a seat free next to him. Grateful to spot her fellow reporter and best friend, she made her way through the packed crowd.

"Hey." Callie sat down on the proffered stool.

"What are you drinking? I'm buying."

Callie looked down at Mark's bottle of beer and nodded. "Pale is fine." Mark signaled to the barkeep.

"So did you get in?"

Callie shook her head. "No-one did. Judge got fed up with folks sneaking photos and kicked the press out. Only the select few got in."

Mark raised his eyebrows at Callie's sing-song overemphasis on the words 'select-few'. "The Times?"

Callie shrugged dejectedly and took a swig from her bottle. "Those upper echelons of society that tell us how to think, yes." Mark hummed, knowingly. "Typical."

Callie began to feel better about the day. After the fiasco of trying to get a quote when the Prosecution Team arrived, the attempt to get a quote from David Cross hadn't gone all that much better. He had simply marched directly into the Courthouse and if Cristina hadn't been as sharp as she was, they might not have even got any footage.

Then Justice Bailey took point and kicked out all excess press from her courtroom, which left Callie and Cristina with barely anything to do for 7 hours other than hang out waiting for updates. Callie got on well with Cristina – they saw eye to eye on most things and were too laid back about anything that wasn't work or love to give a shit – but still. Hanging out with nothing to do for 7 hours wasn't anyone's idea of a good time. And Cristina's incessant need for effective time spent at work had been beginning to grate on Callie's nerves.

When the case finally broke off for the evening and the Prosecution and Defense exited, no exclusive interviews were forthcoming. There were only generic comments from Chief Barrister Webber about 'duty' and his intentions of 'truth and justice' and David Cross' lawyer, Isobel Stevens, claiming, well, exactly the same thing.

It had been disappointing to say the least. During the trial, the case had broken open when evidence from David Cross came in the form of a mobile phone recording. The man had recorded the conversation regarding his contract where it could be clearly heard that Cross asked if the clause of marriage-approved-health-care-insurance applied to his civil union. The resounding affirmative he received was the smoking gun – a valid verbal agreement. Stevens had pushed the angle that had Cross brought an action on this basis, he would have won. But the time it would take to bring suit would have been a death knell for partner John. The urgency of the needed cancer surgery and utter hypocrisy of the Government had pushed David Cross into a corner and according to Stevens, to put it bluntly, man-slaughter had been narrowly avoided, in her opinion. Suddenly, the Prosecution had found itself flipped to become the Defense.

Well.

Callie had tried to catch the eye of Arizona Robbins, but the mad furor she strode through to reach her waiting car built an impenetrable barrier.

And that was it. It was days like these she wondered why she had ever got into journalism in the first place. Having already spent the entire day with Cristina, Callie couldn't face going back to their shared apartment and spending the entire evening with her too. Mark's text had been a welcome invitation.

"So what about you? Did you get anything?"

Mark smirked.

"Define 'get anything'."

Callie rolled her eyes at his connotation. "Yes, Mark, I sure do hope you got herpes today. What did you get on camera?" Callie tried to clarify.

Mark began to grin.

"On camera?"

Callie began to laugh as she realized his implication. "Shut up you big dope and answer my question." Mark eyes twinkled as he knocked back another draught of beer, before shaking his head. "No, same as everybody else – they weren't giving us anything."

Callie pursed her lips in distaste, thinking back on the day. "I know, right. It was a massive waste of my time."

Mark looked over at her, curious. "Got somewhere to be, Torres?"

Callie sighed and inclined her head in acknowledgement. "No," she drew it out, "but I could have, I don't know, gone for a run – or eaten my body weight in chocolate – whatever. Just stuff."

Mark was still watching her, intrigued.

"You got something going on?"

"No."

"You're seeing someone aren't you?"

Callie's tone was monotonous as she stared blankly at the bottles behind the bar. "No, Mark." He leaned in closer.

"Is it a girl?"

That caused a reaction. Callie almost spit out the swallow of liquid in her mouth and looked around quickly to see if anyone had heard the question.

"No, I said no, Mark. I'm not seeing anyone and as someone working in television I don't appreciate talking about my private life in public places, alright? You never know who is listening."

Mark held up his hands in surrender at the suddenly intense woman before him. "Hey, I hear you. Loud and queer…clear. Loud and clear, I said." He added, seeing Callie's daggered look. "Loud and clear, Cal." Callie shook her head in disbelief and took another swig from her bottle. "Sometimes I don't know why I bother."

"It's because…" Mark's voice died down and Callie turned to see why. Realizing he was watching the bar television, she saw TBC News anchorman Derek Shepherd introducing the latest headlines. Gesturing to catch the attention of the barkeep, she jerked her eyes towards the flat screen "Can you turn that up?"

Derek's voice became audible. "…by new evidence today that Cross had a recorded meeting on his mobile phone where a verbal agreement was made to cover the health insurance of his partner, John Hillbank. Mr Webber, for the Prosecution, had this to say on the matter." There was a cut to a clip of the morning's videobite from Webber, Arizona Robbins standing to his right.

About halfway through the speech, Callie heard a soft, but wary, 'woah' emit from Mark. She looked around at him inquisitively as the clip ended. "What?"

Mark tore his eyes away from the television. "Man, Robbins definitely does not like Webber."

Callie glanced back to the screen, but Derek had moved onto the next news segment – an arson attack. She looked back at Mark. "What do you mean? How can you tell?"

He cocked his head and looked at her patronizingly. "Callie, a guy doesn't hit a score rate like me unless he knows when to cut his losses. I know when I'm out. And right there," he jerked his head towards the screen and pointed with the neck of his beer bottle, "Webber is out."

Callie paused thoughtfully. "Robbins doesn't like him?"

Mark nodded. "I don't know if it's him or what he said, but Robbins was not giving off good vibes by my book."

Callie looked back up at the television. They were showing the sports report. "Looks like the Nicks are doing well." She grinned as Mark collapsed his head in abject horror onto his arms resting on the bar. "Callie, do you even know what sport the Nicks play?"

"Base-" her winning smile dwindled and she narrowed her eyes hopefully, "-ketball?"

Mark gave a muffled groan.

But Callie's interest was piqued. Making small talk with Mark as they teased each other and drank, she felt fixated on pinpointing why Mark thought Arizona Robbins didn't like Webber. The journalist in her could feel the beginnings of a story and she didn't want Mark to catch on. She made excuses and left early at ten so she could make it home in time to catch and record the 11 o'clock news.

Entering the apartment, Cristina had obviously had the same idea as Callie to spend some time apart and had made herself scarce. Probably at Meredith's house again, thought Callie as she flopped down onto the sofa and dug between the cushions for the remote. Clicking onto TBC News, she was in luck as they played the clip a second time, which Callie promptly recorded.

At first, she didn't see it. Arizona was standing to the right of Webber and slightly behind him looking both professional and nonchalant at the same time. Callie pressed rewind and watched again.

Bingo. There it was.

Arizona wasn't looking at Webber, rather staring straight ahead, which was nothing out of the ordinary in itself, but…

As Webber waxed poetic about his values of truth and justice, Callie could see what Mark was talking about. When Webber mentioned how he acted 'regardless of personal circumstance', Arizona's eyes dropped. At the phrase 'rash choice' Arizona's eye twitched. It was subtle but, dagnamit, if it didn't twitch. Callie re-watched another three times just to make sure.

It was still there.

During her viewing, Callie had slid forward to the edge of the couch and was leaning forward intently. Pausing the recording, she sat back and rested her head against the plump cushions.

So, Arizona Robbins didn't like Webber.

Callie pondered.

Maybe she didn't like the guy, but – no – it seemed more like see didn't agree with what he was saying. She didn't agree with the case? She was sympathetic to David Cross, maybe, but then why was she working the case?

Perhaps, the unsolicited thought came to Callie, Arizona Robbins could be, potentially…

She raised her hand to her jaw and placed her index finger across her mouth, tapping gently. Deciding.

Whatever it was, Callie Torres, TBC Current Affairs reporter, was going to figure it out.

First things first, she was going to get the footage shot this morning from Cristina. Everything was beginning to make sense in an entirely different light.


End file.
